


The Pieces That Fall Apart

by acidicshortcake



Series: Kinktober 2k19 [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Masturbation, Other, aphrodisiac via vampire bite, can pass for non-romantic, dubiously consensual biting, set in crimson flower route, take that as you will, there's a vibe of unrequited feelings here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 08:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20963333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidicshortcake/pseuds/acidicshortcake
Summary: Ever since the professor’s disappearance five years ago, Edelgard’s regular feedings have become unstable. It’s not hard for Hubert to notice; being by her side for so many years grants him this privilege.Written for Kinktober 2k19 [ Day 6 - Biting ]





	The Pieces That Fall Apart

Ever since the professor’s disappearance five years ago, Edelgard’s regular feedings have become unstable. It’s not hard for Hubert to notice; being by her side for so many years grants him this privilege. Their classmates have noticed how distraught she’s become of late, when no good news of knowing the professor’s whereabouts comes to lift the weight from her shoulders, and that alone is a testament to how harshly the loss has stuck her. And yet even they do not understand just how far deep it goes, for there are sides of the Empress that even her closest allies have yet to see, one that even he sees so little of. 

Edelgard’s eyes are glowing when Hubert slips into the council room. The sight alone sets off an alarm in the back of his mind, but his facade is as calm as ever.

“It is important that you rest, Lady Edelgard,” he says, though his eyes carefully watch the tension in her stance coil as if springlike. “There are many discussions to be had come morning. We cannot afford erroneous judgement to be made due to lack of sleep.” 

Not that he doubts her ability to gracefully manage herself no matter the circumstance. Still, he must be her voice of reason where the professor is absent, and he is more than willing—and capable—of doing so. It would be of no issue.

Except that what should be of ease today proves... troublesome, to say the least.

The gleam in those unnaturally bright eyes sings of what Hubert knows as the closest approximation of bloodlust. It’s troubling; her routine feeding has been on time as it ever has, and yet she stands before him, bearing all the signs of hunger as if she’s been close to starved. Many explanations come to mind, and yet he’s given no time to comb through them before she’s moving faster than his eyes can keep up with. 

Hubert bites back a hiss of discomfort as he’s slammed into the wall, pinned in place by small hands that hold a fearsome amount of strength within them. Their differences in stature has never presented a barrier of this sort to Edelgard before, but she handles it with smooth motion, though one equally as befitting of a beast of some sort. Claws tear apart the buttons of his jacket and then into the shirt beneath. Hubert frowns, bringing a hand lightly to Edelgard’s shoulder.

“Perhaps a more appropriate manner would befit—”

She’s not listening. Edelgard’s grip digs into his waist and Hubert grimaces, but he keeps his voice at bay when she manages to pull him down just enough to be able to sink her fangs into the curve of his neck. 

Lidded though his eyes are, Hubert refuses to allow them to close, keeping his gaze trained on the Emperor’s smaller form. He has all the ability in the world to push her away, but instead he allows her this as he allows his thoughts to wander ahead. There must be a reason as to why her hunger has caught her so strongly, long before it had any right to. The disturbance in schedule is perturbing to say the least, even more so when Hubert has no sound basis to start with.

The professor comes to mind again in a flash of a thought. His eyes narrow, and yet he can’t find it within himself to summon anger, for once. 

“Has there absence truly affected you so, that you can barely hold control over the impulses that have ailed you for a lifetime?” 

His words come soft, and he doesn’t expect her to answer or even hear him. The moment he mentions  _ them _ , though, Edelgard’s grip tightens, and she shifts to drink from him more intently. He can feel blood dripping down his collar moments before her tongue follows, dragging along his skin and back to his throat. The hazy wave of her natural toxin begins seeping through his thoughts, and Hubert understands the dangers in it. Not to himself, but to her.

“Lady Edelgard,” he starts, but his words cut off in a sharp intake as she bites down again, deeper. Even he can’t hide the flash of pain in the groan he gives as his legs grow weak; before he knows it, his back is sliding down the length of the wall and his master is following him, descending into his lap if only to have comfortable access to his neck. Hubert’s hand moves to her waist as he leans his head against the wall, keeping his wits about him through sheer force of will as he counts. 

By the time a numbing sensation starts to leave his limbs tingling, Edelgard’s fervency has lessened into something more calm. Her head rests against his shoulder, her hands shaking when she sets them upon his chest. Hubert’s count was only a few beats off—any longer, and he would have taken matters into his own hands, but it seems as though such an outcome has been avoided. It’s a relief, to him; it’s distress for her.

“Hubert.” Her voice is clearer than he’s sure it would have been just moments before. He’s sure that her eyes have faded back to their natural color, as well. 

“Yes, Your Majesty?"

“Why didn’t—” She pauses to regain control of the shudder in her voice. “Why didn’t you stop me? I’ve told you many times before that if I were to ever—”

“Pardon me Lady Edelgard, but your orders were given in regards to potential endangerment.” His words come slower than normal, his ability to form them weighed down by the same sluggish fog that fills his head. “Were my life at an imminent risk, I would have taken appropriate measures. However—”

“That isn’t the point!” Even with cotton muffling his senses, he can hear the upset in her tone. “I... It gets so hard to think. Like I can’t even identify who’s in front of me. If I lose myself to that, I...” 

It pains her; he’s not so blind as to miss such detail. But Hubert is not the one for comforts and reassurances that appeal to emotion instead of logic. It’s even harder now when  _ he _ can’t think, his mind and body rendered muddled under the effects of her bite’s natural glamour. His breathing is heavier than he would like, and she notices in the silence that he grants her. Edelgard closes her eyes; with a deep breath of her own, she tries to pull herself together.

“I will at least tend to this,” she declares, and gives him no room for protest before she’s leaning into him again.

Gently, her tongue runs across the still bleeding wound she inflicted. Hubert doesn’t manage to stifle the sigh it draws out as he tilts his head, almost reluctantly baring his throat for his master; even if he had the strength to refuse, he knows that he wouldn’t have. The punctures in his flesh react in time to the drug she produces, an innate medicine that’ll soon restore the full use of his numbing body. It’s because he knows this that he can allow it; the guilt she holds in her actions is of no pressing concern. 

What is truly vexing, however, is how he has no control of how his body  _ responds _ to it. Had he any measure of capability in the moment, Hubert would ensure that his loins would not respond to her actions with heat, thus disgracing his honor as well as hers. A bothersome side effect, it is, but he can do little more than to allow it to run its course for now, though he’s certain that in this position, Edelgard can feel the effects herself. 

If she does, she brings no attention to it. In fact, she seems quite focused in her task, all but suckling at his throat. Her lips and tongue clean the traces of her shameful act from his skin as though he had any grievances with being streaked with red, be it by or for her hand. That sentiment trails lower, until she’s licking at his collar, her breath fanning across pale skin. She shifts in place, unintentionally moving against his groin, and Hubert reaches his limit. 

“Lady Edelgard,” he says, raising a hand and setting it lightly against her shoulder, as if making to push her away, but not doing so. Edelgard pauses, and Hubert catches the color of her cheeks as she pulls back. Their gazes meet for the briefest of moments before she stands, not voicing her apology. Hubert thinks it just as well; he’d rather not have to explain why there was no need for one when he’s feeling just off enough that it’s hard to articulate his thoughts. 

He stands without her aid, coolly righting what remains of his clothes in the process. In the end, the buttons of his jacket aren’t quite done and the white shirt beneath is stained and torn; he can replace it with ease, and hardly worries about it as much as her gaze does. Hubert dismisses it with a respectful bow. 

“I will be taking my leave,” he announces, and Edelgard doesn’t quite turn to look his way. “Do see yourself well-rested for tomorrow’s conferences.” 

Before he leaves, he waits. The silence ticks by. At least a minute pasts before she speaks up.

“Has there been any news of the professor’s whereabouts?” 

Hubert answers without hesitation, “None of yet.” 

Her shoulders sag slightly. “I see.”

Something strange stirs within his chest; he doesn’t really have the space to determine why it feels like a flavor of desire.

As he closes the door to the council room, he spares a moment to acknowledge the troublesome circumstance that had stirred between his legs. To leave it be as he tends to other matters may be more a bother than it’s worth, and yet he has no desire to do such a thing, either. A rare, heavy sigh brushes through his lips. 

Vexing indeed. 

A detour to his private quarters hadn’t been in Hubert’s plans for the night, but heat still swarms his veins and mind, having not yet settled down. A change of clothes aside, his mild inebriation could leave him compromised in his tasks, much to his displeasure; it gives all the more reason to allow the special sort of drug to run its course. 

With a sense of clinical disinterest, Hubert disrobes and settles atop his bed. Fingers curl around his length, moving in slow and steady strokes as he allows his mind a moment to wander. He’s aware, in basic ways, which patterns and techniques could bring him to finish with the least delay—he employs them now as he considers Edelgard’s faint instability. 

Or tries, at least—beyond his control, his thoughts pull away from reason and more towards the nonsensical. Where he tries to make sense of her recent instability, his mind circles back to the feel of her bite; he tries to consider the work he must do, but intrusive thoughts recall the heat of her lips against his skin. This desire isn’t his own, and yet it consumes him all the same. 

He finishes to the sight of the bloodstain in his pristine shirt, teeth gritted and a sense of distaste on his tongue. 

Eyes narrow into a glare at the release on his hand, but it only lasts a moment before exasperated acceptance takes hold instead and Hubert stands, cleaning himself off and fishing out another shirt to replace the one left ruined in more ways than one. Wasting no time, he leaves his room, charting a path around the monastery’s perimeter until the more mild effects of the sedation wears off.

Soon enough, he’s slipping into the shadows, almost  _ excited _ to chase the unsavory thoughts from his mind with what he’s always had an affinity for rather than being trapped with them in ways that made forgetting more difficult. 


End file.
